Thing Without A Name
by Shadow Padawan
Summary: Nikolai had always preferred the friendship of men, the idealization of men and the companionship of men above those of women but up until now there had been nothing "wrong" with his friendships and idealizations. Theodore Dolokhov changes all of that.


Nikolai, like all the other officers, had a habit of visiting the brothels. It would be very strange for him to not do so, especially as he and Sonya were not married or even engaged yet. He had every intention of marrying her, of course, but for now he would have to endure teasing from his friends if he did not visit the Ladies of the Night like a "proper" red-blooded Russian officer.

It was one of those things that everyone knew about, that the men talked about sometimes when they'd had a little too much to drink but that could not be mentioned in polite company as well as that of ladies and elders. Perhaps that is why Nikolai could never gain real pleasure from these encounters. He did these things out of habit and while the act itself felt good, the pleasure caused him guilt. Other young officers were either thrilled by the illicit nature of the encounters or desired them so greatly that they did not feel anything but that drive to posses a female body.

Nikolai, on the other hand, felt shame. Simple and bland, not overwhelming but always there. He crossed the line of his own proper, homeschooled raising not so much out of desire for the whores but more to be upheld in the eyes of his more depraved companions. It would be unthinkable for them to think him incompetent or worse – a sadomite.

Sodomy was a sin so deplorable that Nikolai could not imagine being suspect of being one without a shudder. It would be dishonorable and sinful to consider another man in such a way, not to mention to allow oneself to be used as a woman. So to avoid any such talk, as of course it would be slanderous but still unpleasant, Nikolai sought the company of easy women despite his lack of proper enthusiasm for the activity.

Aside from his sisters and Sonya, who was almost like a sister to him, Nikolai had to admit that he preferred the company of men. Not that this was surprising but he found that men fascinated and pleased him in most ways. He was incredibly good friends with Denisov, he admired the older man, he looked up to him and they worked and drank well together. Such a friendship was not worth any woman in the world. Except for his sisters and Sonya, but that didn't count.

As for ideals, as for poetry, Nikolai could not imagine an inspiration more magnificent or more pure than the Emperor Alexander. Every time he saw the tsar, Nikolai was filled with an extraordinary feeling of flying. He would trace the Emperor's handsome features and graceful, proud posture with his eyes and would long to die for the man if only to show his undying loyalty. Of course, he couldn't be the only one and probably wasn't. Many young, idealist officers and cadets, overflowing with eager patriotism, worshiped the ground their tsar walked on.

These friendships and loves were always pure, always right. They had nothing to do with sex or sodomy, nothing in them was of depravity or dishonor. Nikolai was always happy with himself and the world was perfectly clear.

* * *

It was Denisov who introduced Nikolai to Theodore Dolokhov – casually as an old friend of his – at some drunken gathering or another. Dolokhov made a lasting impression on Nikolai from the beginning. Everything from his intelligent blue eye to his broad shoulders, to his teasing and cocky manner made Nikolai feel giddy. He and Dolokhov drank and talked happily as the latter played cards and just about always won.

They went their separate ways for a while as they served in different regiments but soon met again in Moscow during the winter. Nikolai could not believe his luck in this new friendship. Theodore was everything Nikolai admired – determined, brave, smart, competent, happy to both go out and drink as well as stay in and talk if the mood was right. In fact, Theodore drank surprisingly little, even though he could hold his alcohol better than most people Nikolai knew and their sober conversations were always filled with amusing banter. By the time March and Bagration's banquet rolled around, Nikolai felt himself flying in Theodore's presence much as he did in the presence of the tsar. But Theodore was real, was reachable, a friend and companion. Nikolai spent most of his days with Danisov and Dolokhov to the chagrin of his family and Sonya, whom he was wronging horribly, of course, with such indifference.

By then, Nikolai had started having dreams. Disturbing dreams that made him wake up in a cold sweat and sit for long minutes in the dark. In these dreams, he embraced Theodore as he would embrace Sonya and they touched and kissed and did the most unimaginable things to each other. At first, these dreams frightened Nikolai and he always flushed when seeing Theodore on the day after such a dream, wondering if his friend could see straight through him, waiting for the disgusted rejection.

Then, Nikolai began to fight the dreams. They were only dreams, after all. He had no inappropriate desires toward his friend. And if Theodore's smile made his heart beat faster and if his stomach flipped once in a while when they were a little too close and if he wanted to spend the evening with Theodore rather than Sonya, that did not mean it was anything other than a perfect friendship.

But the dreams still came consistently, and Nikolai slowly, with horror, watched as they transformed themselves into daydreams and soaked up every moment, every thought, every wish.

* * *

The duel went horribly. Theodore nearly died because of a fluke and Nikolai spent the next several weeks by his side as he recovered slowly.

It were the smallest of touches that made the difference – brushing strands of Theodore's hair out of his face, holding his hand, helping him sit up with a hand on his back. With every day, every touch, the desire for contact grew stronger and stronger in Nikolai to the point that he could not resist it, could not deny it. If he hadn't been so worried, so focused, he would have been ashamed and baffled at his body's reactions to these innocent, platonic touches.

But the more contact he craved, the deeper his feeling nestled in his soul, the harder it was to stay away or brush them off. It was kissing Theodore's forehead as he fell asleep one night that broke Nikolai, made him surrender to the fact that something about this friendship was different. It was frightening but he could no longer fight it.

On one day in the month of June, when his family went to countryside and Nikolai stayed in Moscow on business, he found himself at Theodore's, stood by the window, leaning heavily on the windowsill, his heart pounding as Theodore came up behind him. Theodore was recovered by then and Nikolai found the distressful lack of excuses for touching and feeling painful and nearly unbearable.

"I've seen you watching me all this time," Theodore told him casually, his voice cutting through the late-afternoon heat. Nikolai felt a hand on his arm and flinched. Theodore turned him around and looked at him steadily.

Nikolai tried to find the words to explain just what exactly he felt and thought and meant but he could hardly explain it to himself in his head not to mention to someone else out loud. Then, Theodore's lips found his and Nikolai drowned in his own overtaxed emotions.

This was not friendship anymore but it was nothing like the dirty thing he was afraid it would be. Perhaps on one had invented a word for it yet but hopefully they would soon.


End file.
